A pig sweat-dripping Scratching his balls a male Since day one the lowest self-esteem, bound to fail Not a single word Small talk is done with a fist Suicidal Heirloom shotguns and opened wrists Talks like a stroke in slow motion Yet feeling fine, not a day over dead Drop-dead-ugly, fucked up abortion Shits while eats, same inside the head This is what northen men are made of This is how northern men are made Hey honey, don't care what your name is There is just one thing I crave Take off that dress I'm your man Hey honey, flowers belong on graves Drag you down in shades of shame Nevertheless I'm your man A true self-loather Head stuck tight in the noose When given bottle sings his rueful blues through the booze And them women Anything goes of course A masturbator Yet a longtime fan of intercourse Agora-xeno-homophobic An ignorant redneck to the bone Home is where the vacant sty is With balls erected the seeds are sown